Not Just A Girl
by Mia lovely
Summary: "As with any other strong drug, true first love is really only interesting to those who have become its prisoners. And, as is true of any other strong and addicting drug, true first love is dangerous." ― Stephen King, Wizard and Glass. A crossover/prequel fic to AHS season 1.


**Sour Girl**

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Glee or American Horror Story. The characters Quinn Fabray and Tate Langdon belong to their respective owners.**  
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**Pairing****:** Tate Langdon & Quinn Fabray

**Summary****:** A prequel one-shot to DBA. This takes play before any of the murders. Quinn and Tate form an unlikely bond.

**Rated T for language**.

**AN****:** This was originally going to be called Miss Humpty-Dumpty, by since the Stone Temple Pilots' song Sour Girl basically served as my muse for this one-shot I decided to change it title to Sour Girl. Besides I think this new title fits the story more.

**Sour Girl**

_She turned away what was she looking at?_

_She was a sour girl the day that she met me…_

_Don't turn away what are you looking at?_

_He was so happy on the day that he met her._

How it all started.

It was fifth period environmental science, and they were supposed to be watching an educational film on algae photosynthesis, when a wad of crumbled up paper lands in Quinn Fabray's lap. Quinn looks around the classroom to find the guilty party, when her eyes land on the smug face of Joey Bruner.

Joey sends her a sly grin and gestures for her to open the paper ball. Quinn does so, not because she cares about what he has to say, but more because she just really wants to get his out of her hair. Opening the paper wad, she reads: _I had a dream about you the last night. Now that you're not knocked up, we should hook up. You know I can make it good, just like last time._

Quinn eyes flash angrily and the page. Ripping the crumbled piece paper into tiny little pieces, while chocking back the flow of vomit that worked its way up her throat. She shoots Joey a hateful glare, and huffs, "Some times I wish I could just wipe this whole world clean of all its filth." She says to no one in particular.

Tate lifts his head off his desk and looks over at the fuming blonde next to him. He's not sure if she was talking to him or not. Tate takes a moment to glance around the room. They're the only ones sitting there, the rest of the group is further up ahead, so she must be talking to him. But why?

Turning his gaze in the direction her angry eyes were glaring, he sees a group of obnoxious jocks harassing a defenseless classmate. Shaking his head at the sight he nods, "Well, you'll need one mighty large rag in order to make that happen. It'd probably be easier if you just took all that's light in the world and put it out of its misery."

Quinn's head snaps at the sound of Tate's voice. She hadn't realized that there was someone sitting next to her. Looking at Tate thoughtfully, Quinn mauled over he's words. He was right though, it would be easier to just snuff out the light and let the filth rot here on earth. "Maybe so," Quinn agrees, "but I don't know, something about that just doesn't seem fair to me."

"This world isn't fair. You'd be delusional if you actually believed that it was." Tate chuckles lightly, his eyes flicked down to the gold cross around her neck, "Death is the ultimate freedom. You're a Christian, aren't you supposed to believe that there's some magical castle in the sky waiting for you when you die, or some thing?"

Quinn's hand subconsciously went to the cross around her neck. She's surprised that she even still wears it. "I'm not sure I believe in anything anymore," she replied honestly. Quinn wasn't entirely sure why she still wore the necklace. She had lost her faith a long time ago, the night of Jessica King's pool party. Maybe it was just a force of habit.

Tate arches an eyebrow, his interest peaked, "Than what do you believe?" he doesn't know much about Quinn, other then the fact that she's popular, pretty, and a cheerleader. Correction, she _used to_ _be_ a popular cheerleader. Being a teenage mom is sort of frowned upon by the cheerleading squad, or so he hears. Well, she's still pretty, so at least she still has that.

Quinn narrows her eyes at his question. Why the sudden interest? They weren't friends. In fact this was probably the first time she has ever spoken directly to him in the three years they've gone to this school."What's with the sudden interest?" she grilled him, skeptical green eyes eyeing him suspiciously.

"I don't know, just curious I guess," Tate shrugs nonchalantly.

Taking a moment to really think about his question. Quinn wonders why she's even considering dignifying him with an answer. He was no body to her. In fact, she isn't sure if she even knows his name. But there was something about him, something in his dark brown eyes that she couldn't help but identify with. She isn't exactly sure what _it_ is, but its there.

Tate goes back to watching the boring documentary on the overhead. He figures she's just going to ignore the fact that he's even asked her a question and go back to glaring daggers at the assholes in front of them. This is why he's a little startled when he does hear her speak again

"It's funny; my mom makes me go to mass every Sunday. To sit and listen to these long drawn out sermons about an invisible all mighty god in the sky. He's someone who's suppose to guide and protect us, yet for some reason this all mighty _god_ is never around when you actually need him. At least not for me, he isn't." Quinn isn't quite sure why she told him all this, but she just did, so…that's that.

Tate sits up a little straighter in his seat. He was definitely not expecting an answer like that, if any. He's a little offended actually. Not because he's especially religious, because he definitely is not. But because he thinks Quinn has no real reason to feel this way. Her life is fucking perfect! She has no reason to complain. Yes, she got knocked up last year. But that was last year, and the baby was gone. Nothing is stopping her from reclaiming her former Homecoming queen title. Girls like her don't stay down for long. This was all temporary for her.

"Careful now, Quinn. If people hear you talking like that they might mistake you for being a blasphemous outsider," he warns.

Quinn is a little taken aback at the fact that he even knows her name. However she recovers quickly. What was his name anyway? Tyler…Thomas…Travis. It was T something, Taylor maybe? No, that wasn't it either. Oh well, it doesn't matter, he's a colossal tool anyway. "What, you think that just because I use to be cheer captain that means I don't have any legitimate reasons to be angry with the world?" she spat, "Gee, I'm sorry we can't all be ineffectual loners like yourself."

Tate laughs and puts his hands up in surrender, "I'm not trying to piss you off. Really, I'm not. It's just that you don't exactly look like the kind of person who would hate the world."

Quinn turns all the way around to face him, and Tate can't help but notice the ferocious, raging fire burning behind her olive-green eyes. "Trust me; if I could, I'd blow up this whole goddamn world."

Tate watched Quinn closely. She wasn't at all who he had expected her to be. She wasn't a clueless Valley girl. She was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Just like him, only she was better at hiding it then he was. He kind of envies her for that. Because she's got every one around her so thoroughly mind fucked, that they don't even realize that she's a much crueler mistress then they give her credit for.

Staring right into her smoldering eyes, coffee-brown meeting olive-green, "Those are some strong words," he says.

"And I mean every last one," she says blatantly. Quinn knows that she must sound a madwoman. But honestly, she stopped caring a long time ago. The point was that she was a different person now. She wasn't going to let this world use her as its chew toy any longer.

They both turn away to watch the film; and after a while, Tate breaks their silence. Eyes still turned toward the screen, "I'm Tate, by the way."

Quinn turns her eyes away from the overhead projector long enough to give Tate a sidelong glace. Tate, _that_'s his name.

* * *

><p>AN2: This didn't turn out as good as I expected it to be. But I hope at least you were able to spot the subtle spark between Quinn and Tate. This was supposed to be the first time Quinn and Tate actually speak to each other. I didn't want it to be overly cheesy and romantic, seeing as they don't even really know each other, yet. Besides, I don't really see Tate and Quinn being the type of couple that regularly engage in overly cheesy romantics. But that's just me.<p>

Please, don't forget to review. I like to know what my readers think.


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